


When Morning Comes

by isuilde



Series: Scatter Like Flower Petals [2]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Domesticity, Established Relationship, M/M, Sarumi Fest, mentions of Totsuka Tatara, teeth-rotting fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 08:37:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isuilde/pseuds/isuilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's morning. Saruhiko wakes up. Misaki doesn't kiss him, because morning kisses are for saps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Morning Comes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sarumi Fest to celebrate Sarumi Day on tumblr.

He wakes up to the sound of something sizzling in the kitchen, and the smell of tamagoyaki. 

The other side of the bed is empty, but when Saruhiko reaches out to smooth down the sheets, the warmth left by the body that lay there the previous night still lingers under the tips of his fingers. He curls himself there, trying to fit his own body into the warmth that’s left, albeit knowing that his limbs will be too long and he won’t fit, but that’s okay, because when he breathes, he can still smell Misaki. 

He lets out a soft sigh, listens to the clacking sounds from the kitchen, and imagines nimble fingers handling knives and pans and vegetables. Once, there was a period when Totsuka-san was obsessed with zodiacs, and told him that Misaki is a caretaker because he’s a Cancer. Saruhiko hadn’t quite believed him, because Misaki likes to destroy things and people, tearing them apart with his fire and laughs at the wreck his violence makes. 

It’s easy to forget how Misaki likes to cook for people, how Misaki takes Anna’s hand when he thinks the little girl is scared, how Misaki defends people so strongly because he takes them to heart. Saruhiko remembers crushing kisses that contradict the tender fingers that thread into his hair, filthy words that never suit the way Misaki gently moves inside him when he thinks Saruhiko might be hurting. It’s inexplicable, somewhat, but Totsuka-san was right. 

“Oi, idiot Monkey,” and there’s that tone hiding behind Misaki’s insults; fond and sometimes a little desperate, because they have left each other’s side once and the scar runs deep, even if they’ve settled things once and for all. “Get the fuck up already, you’re going to be late.” 

The kick that greets his ass isn’t surprising. It’s Misaki’s favorite way to wake him up, actually, because the idiot thinks morning kisses are for saps. Saruhiko isn’t really fond of morning breath, himself, but he certainly wouldn’t refuse one peck on the lips. 

Another kick. “I know you’re awake, dumbass. Come  _on_ , the shop’s gonna open earlier today, I can’t be late.” 

 “Quit your job,” Saruhiko says in irritation, because the shop where Misaki works part time now has an owner whose son has been eyeing Misaki for some time. Misaki gives him another kick for that, and he clicks his tongue. “It’s not like we’ll be short on money if you quit your job; mine’s got a steady income enough for the two of us, anyway—“ 

“I’m going to set you on fire,” Misaki threatens. 

Saruhiko turns around with another click of his tongue, eyes finally cracking open slowly; the world a blur of faded lines and shapes and colors, but he can make out the lines of Misaki’s figure sitting on the edge of the bed, because Misaki’s color has always been the brightest in his world, hasn’t it? 

He reaches out, touches the line of Misaki’s hip and traces it with the tips of his fingers, smiles and drawls, “Good morning, Mi-sa-kiiiii…” 

He imagines Misaki making a face, and the corners of his lips twitch up even higher. Misaki’s face swims into his gaze, closer and clearer, and then his glasses is slipping onto his face, Misaki’s fingers tucking his stray bangs behind his ear, Misaki’s grin the first clear thing he sees, and so, Saruhiko’s day begins. 

“Morning, you dumb fuck.” 

This is what he lives for, Saruhiko thinks, even as he leans up and winds his arms around Misaki’s hips and pulls him closer. He breathes in, recognizes the scent he’s associated with Misaki for so long. 

It spells out freedom and happiness more than anything Saruhiko’s ever known. 

**——-o0ofinitoo0o——-**


End file.
